Spurling bit her lips to conceal her mirth. ‘I’m only a poor country wench, child. " Thames Darrell was, indeed, a youth of whom a person of far greater worldly consequence than the worthy carpenter might have been justly proud. She closed her eyes and felt again an echo of the swamping warmth that had attacked her when his lips met hers. You lie about your past all the time and you know it.
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